by Wil Clayton
Chapter 7
The court had been moved to the front garden of the Royal Keep, the only place big and safe enough to hold all the Free Men of Hallow’s Keep. Even with the extra space, the Free Man stood shoulder to shoulder with little space between them. The sea of faces stirred restless as Uncle took the wooden chair at the large arch that led into the Grand Pa’s wing.
Orleena stood behind the Chair with Olav and Kara at her the side. She had asked Kara to stay in the tower while the court was held, but Kara had refused to listen and walked beside her through the burnt ruins of Hallow’s Keep.
For the first time, Orleena felt embarrassed by her family, her humiliation compounded as Kara walked with her, witnessing the once noble families of Free Man keeping a pitiful existence amongst the half collapsed roofs and splintered walls.
It had been two weeks since the night Di Soven took to Lowtown. Orleena and Uncle had done their best to get extra supplies and builders from Edgelight and the tar pits across the swamp, but it was time they needed most to rebuild their city.
“Your people are lucky that your winter’s are simply moist,” said Kara stoically, “in the north they would be buried under ten feet of snow.”
Kara had become distant since the night of the fire. Spending more time in the shrine with the gods than she did before. She excused herself from the lessons of law and philosophy. Orleena wanted to tell Kara that there was a reason for all of this, but she could not. Not only was she embarrassed, she was inarticulate, her words came from the ancient wisdom of Roland and the Free Man and she found none of that here.
The Free Men were silent except for the rustling of their clothes, none of them seemed brave enough to speak. Amongst the faces Orleena found Da Raloff, her son Raloff at her side. Uncle Frank stood alone dressed in the armour he had worn that night, the blood had become dried and cracked across the chest plate. Orleena's Aunt, her mother’s sister, Da Lowan emerged from the crowd, her face still, emotionless and cold. She had always kept her distance, refusing to be meet with any of the Royal Kin. Orleena had seen her, a few years before, as Orleena was heading to court. Orleena approached her Aunt to extend an invite to dine at the tower. Da Lowan had turned away without a word and when Orleena had pressed the matter the old woman turned back and spat, ‘You don’t command me, girl,’ before disappearing into the crowd, leaving Orleena confused and stunned.
So many other faces she knew, those who had wept on her shoulder after that night, others who had shouted at her in the street, demanding justice. Others who, now, just avoided her.
Grand Pa was in the doorway, dressed in the silver and yellow robes of the King of Hallow’s Swamp, now the robes of the Emperor of Hallow’s Empire.
On his left was a man as much fat as muscle and as tall as Olav, his face hidden by behind a wild brown beard. Gamon, the new captain of the Imperial Guard.
The last time Orleena had seen either of them was a day after the slaughter. The builders had worked tirelessly to remove the gates that blocked the path into Lowtown. When the bars were lowered Orleena was with Olav and Uncle, she wanted to be there when her grandfather was placed in irons. She had even given her tower guard to her brother to ensure they had the numbers on the fiends.
Lowtown was destroyed. The doors and windows that had not been burnt by the flames had been hacked from their hinges. Bodies of the fallen had been arranged into piles, the Imperial Guard had been busy burning the corpses and they had made much progress. Ash and bone littered the roads and town squares, scattered by the cold winds.
An Imperial Guard, who was found washing in a half burnt out house, told the column of guards where to find her grandfather. The Young Dove, a tavern near the outer wall. As the column of men made their way through the wreckage they came across a handful of Imperial Guards going about their work, bodies dragged behind them.
“Stop what you are doing,” shouted Uncle and walked over to the newly formed pile.
The men stopped in place.
“Keep at it,” shouted one from behind a helmet
Uncle stormed up to the man.
“Stop or I’ll have your damn head,” shouted Uncle his body shaking.
“I take orders from the Emperor, not you,” said the man with no anger in his voice.
“If you looking for fight you will see your outnumbered,” sneered Uncle.
The man took off his helmet, he was old and hard.
“I am looking to get done what I need to get done, Di Aliza,” said the man with a heavy sigh, “if you want me to stop you need to talk with your father. He’s at the Young Dove, if you need an escort I can take you?”
Uncle turned from the man his face twisted with rage.
“Go,” Uncle shouted back to the column of man and they continued through the streets.
The Young Dove was missing two of its exterior walls. Grand Pa was within the broken building, dressed in his bright silver armour, a black willow tree cut into its surface. Gamon stood beside him in a newly forged silver armour draped in a purple cape. Men gathered around them dressed in the armour of the Imperial Guard.
Grand Pa held in one hand a half eaten piece of bread with the other he pointed down at a piece of parchment on the table. The bodies had been removed from this place, but the blood that had been spilt remained, stained into the wood.
“Father, keep you men back,” shouted Uncle, “we have come for your arrest.”
Grand Pa looking at him without an expression.
“If you must,” said Grand Pa and turned to his men, “Gamon will continue the clean up, do as he commands.”
“I want your men out of my city.”
“Are you going to leave the bodies to fester?”
“Get out of my city,” screamed Uncle his face red.
Grand Pa shook his head.
“Gamon, get the men and return to the keep. My son, apparently, does not need our help. Be sure the men are given adequate reward for their work.”
“Yes, Emperor,” said Gamon with a bow and spoke to the men, “round up the guard, everyone returns to the keep.”
There were no chains or heavy iron cuffs like the murders of men were usually locked in. Grand Pa simply marched in the front ignore the column behind him. Leading the way through destruction he had brought to Orleena’s home. Then Grand Pa saw the ruins of Hightown for the first time.
“The men of Hallow’s Keep have reaped what they have sown,” he said to no one.
“The Chair sits,” called the clerk as Uncle took the wooden chair and the ocean of men rustled nervously.
“The Chair will hear the next plea,” shouted Uncle.
“Let Roland and three gods hear the pleas of Da Raloff,” replied the clerk, “who accuses Di Soven of the shedding the blood of forty five Free Men that lost their lives to swords under the command of the accuse.”
“I will hear Da Raloff,” called Uncle.
Da Raloff, clad in her family armour, stepped up upon a short wall of a flower bed, her veiled helmet tucked under her armour.
“I speak for those that lost their family and Kin that night,” she shouted, “I speak because they are so wrought with fury and betrayal their voices are lost. Di Soven, without council from any other, took the two hundred men of the Imperial Guard into Lowtown and murdered coutless men, women and children. Forty five of those were Free Men with our men with our blood. If there is one tenant we hold above all else is we do not spill the blood of our own.
“I do not have to tell you this, we have all seen what Di Soven has done with our own eyes, he has not denied what he has done, if anything, he seems to have revelled in the misery it has brought. It hurts me greatly that Di Soven has only one life to give for his crimes. If I could I would find him in the Last Woods, drag him back here and have his head again and again and again.”
“Enough,” said Uncle.
Da Raloff went silent.
“Was Di Soven or his men seen spilling the blood of any of these Free Men?” as
k Uncle.
“That is not important,” shouted Da Raloff.
“The Chair will hear the answer.”
“It was not seen,” said Da Raloff, “but the bodies that were found with cuts made by swords wielded by the Imperial Guard.”
“One sword cuts like another,” said Uncle, “are you saying there were no swords in Lowtown?”
“The people were fleeing for their lives,” shouted Da Raloff, “I doubt they took the time to cut down the Free Men fleeing with them.”
“You may doubt whatever you wish, I want to know what was seen.”
“You saw what was left of that place.”
“The Chair sees what is in front of it.”
“My Prince,” shouted a man, “I saw a soldier kill my brother.”
“Who are you?” asked Uncle ignoring the inappropriate of his title.
“My name is Vinc,” said the man pushing his way to front, “my brother was in Lowtown that night.”
“What was he doing there?” asked Uncle.
“I would rather not say,” said the man losing his voice.
“If you want to be heard you will speak fully, otherwise stand back.”
“He liked… Sowan woman, my lord,” said the man, “he often went to The Crow to pay…”
The man stopped as emotion took his voice.
“Speak now or do not speak at all,” barked Uncle.
“The Crow is near the gate where we live. My bedroom over looks Lowtown, I saw the fire early. I went down to find my brother and when I got to the Gate it was closed and broken.
“I waited by the gate, and that was when they all started coming out the buildings trying to get to Hightown. My brother was with them, the others. They all started to try and lift the gate together when the guards came and cut them from behind. Those they could not reach with their swords, they stuck with the spears.”
The man stopped, his story was done, his face stained with tears.
“Thank you, Vinc,” said Uncle calmly, “the Chair has heard you.”
“One more thing, my lord,” said Vinc finding his voice again, “after the builders pulled the gate from the wall, my friends and me went to find my brother's body but it was gone. They burnt it with the rest. This shouldn’t happen in peace times.”
The court was quiet.
“That’s all I need to say,” said Vinc disappeared back into the crowd.
“Thank you,” said Uncle, “Da Raloff, anything else.”
“I demand to the strangle Di Soven, myself, in the name of those that have suffered,” she spat.
“The Chair is not at your command,” said Uncle and held up his hand up at her.
Da Raloff dropped herself down from the wall.
“Di Soven, what say you?”
Grand Pa did not move from where he was, he simply turned towards the crowd.
“The battlefield is place of chaos,” shouted Grand Pa his voice loud and hard, “and men and women fall senselessly and indiscriminately. The men that fell that night, fell because you all have forgotten Hallow and you have forgotten Roland.”
“I will hear a defence Di Soven,” barked Uncle, “not a lecture.”
“Has the court change that much since I have been away from my city,” sneered Grand Pa, “does the Chair now interrupt a man who pleas for his life.”
Uncle sat back and a look of concern came across his face.
“Before he was known as Roland the Wild, he was Roland the Black and he knew that there was no such thing as peace time, there are no edges to the battlefield. When the Northern Men fought for the Fork, he went into the city of Yalus’rel and made the Arn nobles realise that they could not hide in their trees while good men died and shed blood for their cause.
“You have forgotten this, everyone of you. You laugh and dance with our enemies, share with them the food and wealth won by the blood of me and mine. All the while believing the battlefield is beyond the swamp, far to the north or far across the seas to the east.
“It is not. The battlefield is here and it is between these wall and I must will march across that battlefield as many times as I need to keep Hallow’s Keep free and mine.
“Each of you know me and you know my way, did you come today to see me beg for forgiveness or did you come to see me hung?” Grand Pa paused, “I don't think you came to see either.”
The crowd was silent, Orleena was very aware of Kara standing a few feet away. She wished Kara had stayed in the tower today.
“There is no plea to be given today because no crime has been committed. I know each of you know that.”
“Is that all you have to say, Di Soven?” asked Uncle.
“I am done with this,” said Grand Pa with a wave of his hand.
“Do you deny the accounts of Vinc? Or the accusation of Da Raloff?”
“I will not answers your questions. If you have not understood what I have said then you will never understand. Rule and let this farce be done.”
“The Chair will rule when it is ready,” said Uncle turned to the crowd, “does anyone else having anything else to say?”
The sea of faces shifted and bobbed, Uncle look across the crowd to see if any would speak, but the Free Man simply waited.
“Gaoler, let it be known Di Soven is sentenced to death for shedding the blood of our own, repeatedly and without remorse,” said Uncle simply with no emotion, “those that wish to console him will be given free access for a day, those that wish to throw stones at him will be given access for a day, as many as two stones no bigger then his fist. On the third day he will be strangled in Hightown Square and his body left for the crows.”
No one moved or spoke.
“I denounce the Chair,” said Grand Pa simply, “you understand nothing of our justice.”
“Father, it is done,” said Uncle for moment breaking formalities of court.
“It is not done,” said Grand Pa sternly, “I denounce the chair and call on the people to remember Roland in all his forms, not just the ones you parade out as you choose.”
There was a silence, Uncle tapped angrily on his chair, trying to focus himself.
“Have it recorded, Di Soven has declared I have no right to dispense Roland’s justice,” Uncle said finally and then rose from the Chair his body shaped awkwardly as he moved.
“Then who will stand with the Emperor who has brought you wealth, land and freedom from the Golden Throne. The one who will rebuild this city a hundred times greater then it ever was.”
“Those who would stand with Di Soven, stand to the left of court, those who stand with Di Aliza move to the right,” called the clerk flicking through a large tome, desperately, looking for something.
Not a single person moved.
“Orleena, you will stand with me,” said Grand Pa.
Orleena froze and shook her head.
“Orleena is a Free Men and will stand where she chooses,” shouted Uncle.
“I do not ask you as Orleena,” said Grand Pa, “as daughter of Di Olav, you will stand by my side, as you know he would, he has entrusted you with stewardship of the his tower and position. I have a right to have my son represented in this.”
Orleena’s gritted her teeth, her body was tense.
“I stand with Di Aliza,” shouted Orleena.
“You may stand wherever you choose. Your father will stand with me and you will represent him.”
“Uncle?” Orleena asked quietly.
“He has the right to demand it,” said Uncle quietly, “but you do you think your father would stand with him?”
“I will stand for Pa,” yelled Olav desperately.
“Shut up, boy,” snapped Grand Pa, “Orleena you will stand for your father, otherwise this court loses all of its authority. You will take my life, unfairly and unjustly, and it will haunt this place.”
“I must only stand for him if I know it is his will,” yelled Orleena.
“And he would,” said Grand Pa, “forget your books, your father
knows nothing of books, he knows of duty and knows of war and he knows me, your father has served me loyally all these years. He knows that I am right.”
Orleena felt sick, she looked at Uncle and then she looked for her absent father. The crowd glared at her silent, waiting.
Orleena moved across the stone pavement, she heard Kara take breath behind her and it cut her, deeply. She found herself next to repulsive wretch that was her grandfather.
“Orleena will take the Chair in place of her father until he returns,” yelled her grandfather, “with this we will rebuild this city greater than it was before. Di Soven and Di Olav are the two that stand before you now, where do you see the future of our empire?”
A few in the crowd start to shuffle to the left of the courtyard. Then more. As the number that stood in front of Uncle dwindled more pushed to left. Those that had lost family to the night took their place in front of Orleena. Beyond the faces that swirled in the garden, a lone figure of her Aunt pulled a cloak around her body and walked from the garden.
Orleena tried to think of strength of her heroes, Roland and Helena, but it was not enough now and the tears came. The tears of a fourteen year old child who did not want to comprehend what was happening.
When the clerk stood, he did not even need to count the heads. To the right stood only Da Raloff, Raloff, Vinc and five others. Amongst them was Iona, her right hand encased in an iron guard since it had been crushed so many years before. The rest squashed themselves in front of Di Soven.
“Di Aliza is removed from the Chair and it will never have his wretched soul again,” called the clerk, “he has been replaced by Di Soven. For this moment and only this moment the royal title is seen by the court and is spat upon. I can not pass the Chair to the King, Roland would never allow it.”
The clerks voice became stubborn and hard.
“I leave it to the Free Man to decide, will the Chair pass to the absence Di Olav and then to Orleena, who is the only one left to take the Chair? Stay where you are if you agree with this.”
The crowd did not move. They were unaware of or unconcerned with the delicate rules of Roland’s court.
“Then it is done,” declared the clerk, “the Chair passes to Orleena in the absence of Di Olav.”
Uncle had already removed the robes of the Chair and had dropped them to ground.
“Close the court,” said Orleena with a dead voice.
She did not take robes, she did not sit upon the chair, she did not say what must be said. She did not see why she should, anymore.
